


Calcified Hearts Still Beat

by hmweasley



Series: The Black Sisters [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 06:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15042371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: Andromeda has hoped for a way to reconnect with her younger sister for years despite the odds. When a letter arrives from the nephew she's never met, she finally discovers an opportunity to speak to Narcissa once more.





	Calcified Hearts Still Beat

**Author's Note:**

> While the other two stories in this series can fit together in one continuity, this one actually conflicts with the last. They're not meant to fit together but are almost an alternate scenario of sorts.
> 
> This was written for a birthstone seasonal challenge for which I used the sapphire dialogue prompt: "What do you do when there's nothing but pain left inside of you?"

No matter how many years passed, part of Andromeda wished there was a way for her to reconnect with her younger sister. She had always thought it foolish to hold onto such hope, and she’d given it up almost entirely by the time of the Second Wizarding War, when Lucius’ continued involvement with the Death Eaters did nothing to push Narcissa to renounce him.

Despite her lack of true hope, once the war passed and Lucius was pardoned without receiving another sentence in Azkaban, Andromeda kept a close eye on the Malfoys, wondering if the shifting climate of wizarding Britain would change them in a way the aftermath of the first war hadn’t.

The Malfoys stayed out of the public eye as much as possible. While Andromeda strongly preferred it to what she’d heard of them before, her curiosity often left her annoyed as she wished for some bit of information about what Narcissa was doing.

When Harry had informed her casually during one of his visits (as if forgetting Narcissa was her sister) that Albus had befriended Scorpius Malfoy at Hogwarts, it had been a shock. The information had intrigued her more than she’d let on to Harry. After all, if Scorpius was willing to befriend a Potter, how had the boy been raised? What part had Narcissa played in Scorpius being open to such a friendship?

Or had she worked against it? Had Scorpius befriended a Potter in spite of his family’s disapproval, not unlike her or Sirius’ own rebellions when they were young.

As the years continued to pass with Andromeda hearing little about Narcissa, she didn’t think she would receive an answer.

If it hadn’t been for Draco and the eagle owl that appeared on her windowsill one day, that might have been true.

Andromeda, often skilled at identifying handwriting, didn’t recognize the penmanship on the envelope, but the careful looping script hinted the writer was a pure-blood schooled from a young age to create a strong impression through their writing just as they would through the spoken word.

Her eyes fell to the signature before she’d read the rest of the letter: Draco Malfoy.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. With shaking hands, her eyes travelled to the salutation, eager to learn what the nephew she’d never met could possibly have to say to her.

_Dear Andromeda Tonks,_

_I hope this letter finds you well._

_In all honesty, I never thought I’d be writing you. For years, I was unaware my mother had a second sister. I was a teenager before I discovered your existence, and at the urging of my parents, I pretended you didn’t exist._

_Why, then, have I decided to write you now?_

_I’ve been trying to atone for my past in a number of ways. Perhaps that is part of it, but it is certainly not the whole truth._

_The truth is that my mother is not well. She has insisted on keeping the situation quiet, of course, but my father passed away several months ago. While I do not want you to think I’m writing you merely to receive sympathy that we do not deserve, my mother has not been the same since._

_While I cannot say that you should care, as a son, it’s grown too difficult to sit by and hope my mother recovers. I’m running out of ideas, and despite the years spent apart, you’re the last hope I possess of her returning to her usual self. To be frank, I’m desperate._

_If there’s any hope of you speaking to her, know that Malfoy Manor is open to you. The Blacks have been included in its protection spells since my mother’s marriage to my father, and for all their talk, they could not take your blood away from you. The wards will recognize you._

_My mother does not know of this letter, so I can’t guarantee she’ll be welcoming, but if you have any affection left for your sister, please consider speaking with her. There is always someone at the manor, should you choose to come. Mother never leaves and is typically awake._

_Sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy_

Andromeda’s eyes stung by the time she’d finished, but she refused to cry. She desperately wanted not to care. As Draco himself had acknowledged, there was no way of knowing how Narcissa would react to her arrival at Malfoy Manor. It was far more likely Andromeda would be hexed than welcomed. She wished she didn’t feel a desperate pull to go despite that knowledge.

She would give herself twenty-four hours. If the letter still bothered her, she would go.

XXX

Setting the twenty-four hour requirement for herself had been little more than procrastination. Andromeda had known all along that she’d be as preoccupied by the letter the next day as she had been immediately after receiving it.

Sure enough, by late afternoon the next day, she’d been able to think of little else. There were plenty of chores that needed doing, and she had done very few of them as she remained distracted by her own thoughts. It was apparent that she needed to talk to her sister for her own sanity, if not Narcissa’s.

For years, she’d been searching for an opening such as this after all. The problem was that she’d been hoping it would come from Narcissa herself, not her son. Though Draco believed Andromeda could help Narcissa with whatever she was feeling, Andromeda was less convinced.

None of that stopped her from Apparating to Malfoy Manor. The estate looked the same as it had when she was a child. Her eyes roved the grounds as she stood outside the gate. No one had bothered to plant new species of flowers in the garden. They were the same down to the colours. Peacocks still roamed about. She’d never understood why they were there. The birds must have made short work of destroying the garden.

Raising a shaking hand, Andromeda grasped one of the metal bars of the gate. With a shutter, it swung open, and Andromeda let out a sigh of relief. Despite Draco’s assurances, she hadn’t quite believed she’d be able to enter on her own.

She was sure the inhabitants of the manor had been alerted of her arrival, and with each step she took, her stomach tightened.

The only purebloods whose home she’d visited since being disowned were the Weasleys, and their home was entirely different from Malfoy Manor. It was inevitable that the place would fill her with anxiety as she tried to suppress childhood memories she hadn’t recalled in years.

Her posture had straightened subconsciously. Though Ted had often teased her about standing straighter than anyone else he knew, Andromeda had known that she’d relaxed from the poise that had been ingrained in her as a child. It was all coming back. She knew it was ridiculous. There was no one here to impress because she didn’t care what they thought of her. At least, she didn’t want to care. She hated that part of her was bothered by the idea of disappointing her little sister, though she had done so years early.

She’d always known Narcissa looked up to her in a way she didn’t Bellatrix, and she’d prided herself on that growing up. While Bellatrix had shown little attention to her younger sisters, Andromeda had kept an eye on Narcissa, and leaving her behind had been the only difficult part of running away.

Draco opened the door as soon as she reached it.

“Sorry,” he muttered when she jumped from surprise.

He stepped aside, motioning for her to step inside.

Andromeda’s eyes scanned the entrance as she had the grounds. The inside, too, was the same as it had been when she was younger. No one had been bothered to redecorate, and the decor left Andromeda feeling even more uneasy.

Nothing about Malfoy Manor had been designed to be welcoming. The entrance in particular had been designed for intimidation. To avoid getting lost in her fears, Andromeda focused on the path she was following at Draco’s side.

“Mother’s upstairs.”

It wasn’t lost on Andromeda that he’d never properly greeted her. She might have pointed it out if it hadn’t been for a combination of her own anxiety and the dark circles under Draco’s eyes that had been one of the first things she noticed about his appearance.

“She still doesn’t know you’re here,” he warned, looking apologetic.

Andromeda nodded. She’d expected as much.

“Why do you think I can help?”

He hesitated before answering.

“I’m out of other ideas.”

Neither one of them said another word until they came to a stop in front of one of many ornate wooden doors that lined the upper hall.

With a slight incline of his head, Draco disappeared, leaving Andromeda before it with little choice but to knock.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and her entire body vibrated with her nerves. It would have been easier to turn away. Draco might have known of her cowardice, but did that matter? He was nothing more than the nephew she’d never spoken to before.

She tightened her hands into fists as she steeled herself. For years, she’d been searching for a way to bridge the distance between her and Narcissa. If she chickened out when she was so close, she’d never be able to forgive herself for it.

Though her hand shook, she forced herself to knock. The sound was hesitant, and Andromeda cringed, sure Narcissa would know from the sound that she didn’t belong in the house. Not that it should matter. She’d be learning the truth in mere moments.

“I’m fine, Draco,” Narcissa’s voice called from inside the room, causing Andromeda’s stomach to twist.

In her anxiety, she hadn’t stopped to consider what she would do once she reached this point. Part of her was tempted to reach out and open the door without speaking first.

“It’s me.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say her name, but as she stood before the door in silence, she wondered if her voice was still enough for Narcissa to identify her by.

The silence drug on long enough that Andromeda felt as if she would explode if it lasted a second longer. When the door swung open, she deflated, only for her heart to begin racing again a second later when she made eye contact with her sister.

She wasn’t young anymore. Andromeda noted every detail she could as soon as Narcissa was in full view in front of her. It felt cruel that she’d seen pictures of Narcissa over the years in the Prophet, especially in the immediate aftermath of the war, but had seen the real woman only a handful of times over the previous decades, with each of those sightings being from afar.

The Narcissa in front of her was nothing like the Narcissa she’d seen in the past or the one she’d known in childhood. The clothing was the same, elegant and carefully chosen to sculpt an image. If anything, Narcissa’s grief had prompted her to be even more particular about her outfit. She wasn’t the sort of woman to stay in her pajamas all day. They hadn’t been raised that way.

Andromeda had to fight a smile as the thought reminded her of Ted, who loved to spend entire Sundays in his pajamas. He’d tried for years to get Andromeda hooked on the habit and had never been successful.

The smile quickly died on her lips. Though Narcissa had always been pale, there was a grey tint to her skin that was different from her natural skin tone. Dark circles beneath her eyes hadn’t quite disappeared with the help of potions and makeup. The shock on her face only served to emphasize the features she most wanted to hide.

“Andromeda.”

“Hello, Narcissa.”

For a moment, the two sisters stood in the doorway, neither able to make the next move. It felt monumental to be standing in front of each other; it was hard to break that with words. Narcissa was cataloging each of Andromeda’s features as closely as Andromeda was cataloging hers, and Andromeda wondered what she was finding. She had undoubtedly changed in a myriad of ways since she’d been disowned, but in just as many ways, she felt like the same Andromeda she’d always been.

She wanted to ask if Narcissa could see that too, but the words wouldn’t come.

When the silence had gone on a bit too long, Andromeda realized that Narcissa would never be the one to break it. Her lips had narrowed as she forced herself to remain silent, and Andromeda didn’t have the patience to wait out her sister’s stubbornness.

“Your son wrote to me. He’s concerned for you, and you somehow gave him the impression that I might be able to help. I’m not sure how, but for reasons not clear even to me, I came.”

More silence. Andromeda tensed as she waited to be turned away. Narcissa’s expression was as unreadable as always, but Andromeda knew there had to be conflict within her. Letting Andromeda back into her life even in the smallest of ways went against everything they’d been taught by their family, and despite what the Malfoys had gone through in the aftermath of the war, Narcissa had never had the same kind of encouragement as Andromeda to abandon those views.

“Very well,” Narcissa said. “What do I have to lose at this point? You might as well come in.”

Her tone made it clear that it wasn’t an absolute victory, but Andromeda would take it. She’d made it this far, yet following Narcissa into the small dark sitting room in which she’d ensconced herself felt as difficult as all the other steps she’d taken.

This room felt slightly homier than the rest of the house, and Andromeda thought she’d discovered a place that was entirely Narcissa’s and not carefully maintained for appearances. Even so, the decorations here weren’t that different from the aesthetics of the rest of the house. Most of the decor was in shades of green or silver, with dark wooden furniture. A small bookshelf lined one wall and was littered with pictures, most of them featuring people with stiff smiles if they were smiling at all. The only pictures Andromeda could find where the smiling appeared genuine were of Narcissa’s grandson Scorpius.

For a long time, they sat in silence, neither sure of what to say. It was clear Narcissa was hurting from the death of her husband, but Andromeda didn’t know her sister well enough anymore to speak words of comfort. She had hoped, perhaps, that her presence would be enough to get Narcissa talking so she wouldn’t have to. She had, after all, also lost her husband, and maybe, just maybe, that knowledge would spur something in Narcissa.

When minutes passed with nothing said, Andromeda forced herself to speak.

“It does get easier.” Her voice grew stronger as she continued. “At first, you think you’ll never be able to move on. What do you do when there's nothing but pain left inside of you? It’s like your entire life has changed, but it does get easier to handle. You adjust, learn how to handle him not being there.”

There was more silence. When Narcissa spoke, it wasn’t the words Andromeda had been expecting, but perhaps it should have been.

“When I fell in love with Lucius, I counted myself lucky to love a pureblood. I’d seen what loving less would do to me.”

Andromeda felt a prickle of irritation, but she had prepared herself for this. With practiced ease, she kept her expression as unreadable as Narcissa’s was. She gave no discernable reaction to Narcissa’s words, and Narcissa smirked slightly at the reminder that her sister was still a Black.

“In the end, it doesn’t feel like it mattered,” Narcissa concluded.

There was little emotion in her voice, but she kept her eyes on the ground in a way that went against what they’d been taught.

Though Andromeda had long since come to believe blood purity was a senseless notion, she was tempted to tell Narcissa that it would have made a difference. She couldn’t imagine her sister making it outside the carefully controlled world of purebloods, but then, maybe she wasn’t giving her enough credit. She’d been little more than a girl the last time Andromeda had spoke to her.

Since then, Voldemort had taken control of Malfoy Manor, and Narcissa had been forced to reckon with Bellatrix without their parents as mediators. In some ways, perhaps, that made Narcissa stronger than she was. She wasn’t sure anymore.

“Your son cares.”

It got Narcissa to look at her once more, another sad smile on her face.

“Yes, he’s made that clear enough by pestering me every day.”

Andromeda’s eyes were drawn back to the shelf full of pictures.

“And you have a grandson.”

Narcissa’s smile widened at the reminder.

“Scorpius. Yes. He’ll be home for the summer in a couple of weeks.”

The topic was the safest one they’d stumbled upon.

“I’ve heard he’s a bright boy. The Potters have nothing but good things to say about him.”

Narcissa gave little indication of what she thought about her grandson having the approval of Potters.

“He’s more a Greengrass than a Malfoy,” she admitted, “and I believe Draco is truly thankful for that. It was Draco’s worst fear when he went off to Hogwarts that he’d be unable to make friends. The Malfoy name isn’t what it used to be. Then he went and befriended a Potter. Draco was shocked but happier than he’ll ever admit. Lucius was furious.”

“And you?”

Narcissa hesitated before shrugging.

“I didn’t allow myself to feel one way or the other. It’s not as if my opinion mattered. Nothing Scorpius could do would tarnish the Malfoy name more than it already has been. Lucius never learned that.”

“Albus Potter is a good kid.”

Andromeda was surprised when Narcissa nodded.

“He’s been a loyal friend to Scorpius, and for that, I’m thankful.”

A moment of silence passed before Narcissa continued.

“The house will be brighter once he’s here. It always is. He finds the strangest of ways to change the place. He’s been asking me to redecorate the manor for years. Perhaps it’s time I gave in. You should see his bedroom. He’s always complained about how dark the house is. He decorated his room in rainbows in retaliation.”

The smile they shared cracked some of the tension between them.

Andromeda let Narcissa speak about her family for as long as she liked. The focus stayed largely on Scorpius, with Narcissa appearing lighter when she described the way the boy would babble on excitedly about the smallest of things that intrigued him.

More than an hour had passed before there was a knock on the door.

“Draco,” Narcissa said for Andromeda’s benefit before standing and going to the door.

Draco’s eyes widened when she pulled the door open, having grown used to being dismissed through the door instead of seeing his mother face to face. He craned his neck to check that Andromeda was still there and hadn’t snuck off while he was off doing whatever had been occupying him.

“It’s dinner time,” he informed them before inclining his head in Andromeda’s direction. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Andromeda smiled politely as she stood but was quick to shake her head.

“Thank you for the offer, but I need to be getting back.”

The Malfoys accepted this without argument, neither questioning if it was merely an excuse to escape an awkward meal.

Andromeda made to brush past her sister, but Narcissa’s hand lightly touching her arm made her pause.

“Will you be visiting again?”

The hour Andromeda had spent in the house had done nothing to quell her distaste for the place. It reminded her far too much of the childhood home she’d escaped and never missed.

“I like to visit Diagon Alley on Friday mornings. I eat breakfast in the Leaky Cauldron around seven.”

Narcissa nodded, recognizing the words for the invitation they were.

It was a challenge. Andromeda knew it was. Narcissa agreeing to meet with her in the privacy of Malfoy Manor was entirely different from doing so in the public eye, but Andromeda wasn’t coming back here and still held little desire to invite Narcissa into her own home. And in some ways, she had to admit, she wanted to see if Narcissa was brave enough to do it.

She didn’t wait for an answer, knowing one wouldn’t come that day. Narcissa would agonize over the decision for as long as Andromeda had agonized coming to Malfoy Manor, if not longer. If next Friday came and there was no Narcissa, she wouldn’t take that as a ‘no’ either, merely a ‘maybe.’


End file.
